The Passions Of Curiosity
by Viburnum
Summary: MoviePostMovie centric Noah pines to know the real Ed. Alfons Heiderich at times can't understand Ed at all. Ed wishes to wake up from what he wishes were a dream. He won't admit he likes Noah's company. Unfortunately, so does Alfons.


**Disclaimer:** Original stories not mine, characters not mine: Dammit.  
**Author's Note:** This story revolves around the thoughts of Edward, Alfons and Noah as they live together and will have spoilers to the movie.

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**The Passions Of Curiosity  
I  
The Look**

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Whenever I looked at him at the lazy hours of the day he seemed to be in a trance. He probably thought of something; did a revision or a "check" of everything that we did. However, I sometimes, bravely, out-of-the-blue, fancied that this was when he was at his workshop. A sacred sanctuary from the world that exuded him as the real: of course this was a thought I never gave Edward a sign off. Still, I think it was obvious that he realized I thought such things.

By the word workshop I meant the place he went to live or create those memories he had of the other world. I seriously, personally, thought it to be a phenomenon out of Edward's mind. It was something not real nor could be real. Yet, at times it felt real. The way he described it, so very effortlessly it didn't seem like a creation of his own. Still, I doubted and contradicted my own presumptions. Why? Simple – Edward was prodigious and a genius in nature and mostly the sharpness of the mind and invention come with the delusions that subtract a heavy amount of normalcy.

Edward gave me a look. The look was there, from the very first time we met in Romania. It told "I know you." I had never experienced a look like that before from a complete stranger. So I was drawn to him instantly. My curiosity of him, this enigmatic Edward Elric, never got completely satiated, even with him presently living with me. He still gives me that look.

Edward talks of a brother. What I find funny and can't rid of as coincidence is that the boy's name is Alphonse (it is spelled differently than my own "Alfons") and that this younger brother of his resembles me to many extents.

For the sake of all Holy things, I felt like cursing. How could I resemble someone to that extent? And the stories he told me that involved him and his brother felt almost ludicrous in nature! He and Edward denizens of another world! A world of Alchemy! I shamefully thought that it was Edward's genius that prevented him from being a candidate at the mad-house.

These thoughts if ever revealed will make one think that in many ways I dislike Edward. In actuality, I care for him as a brother. I do not know why he suffers from delusions yet I accepted it as a flaw to the other geniuses of the mind that encompasses him. I truly had no true friend of his likes before. Actually, I had little friends and more acquaintances than I can remember. This was not a new thing. Ever since infancy I was drawn to the deemed impossible sciences and had even meticulously read alchemy books of lore to feed my fires of curiosity. These books served as my firewood when other children mostly played and could not know the basics of the definitive universe of science. My parents were modest people of modest living and we lived in a small village before I came into the city. I was disowned by my father because I refused to marry a cousin of mine. I wasn't upset; I was rather happy. Now away could I learn and be the aspiring science student that I craved to be. My only sadness was that related to my mother. She had cried and tried to persuade my father otherwise. He was adamant as steel. I wrote to her incessantly and she wrote to me. My father couldn't damage the postal system or my mother's speedy yet beautiful hands at calligraphy. I had told Miss Gracia to do me a humble request. When I have died and can no longer write she should go to my desk, pick up my pen and write to my mother of all I had done till the last time I wrote and then conclude it with my demise.

I know that I will not live long. Rocket fumes that filled my bones with knowledge bled my marrow of life. At times I cough out large quantities of blood and must be in total bed rest until I feel my body has sustained enough strength to catch up on my work again. When Edward first saw me like this he was so scared. He started crying. My hollow-wounded face and the blood on my hands gave away his usually stoic look. It was this equanimity that built Edward's whole look. He would smile with calmness, talk with it, respond in it – the man lacked certain energy: Another side-effect of the ingenious mind. Yet, when he saw me in that state of distress for the first time he really did weep for me. He tended to me, did my work for me and made sure I did not move the whole day. Those tears made me see him – his naked self, cut out from the stoical masquerade ball he always attends to. His feeling side, his devotion; he only said one thing:

' Sorry Alfons.' He somewhat sobbed, ' Seeing you in this way. I saw worse conditions of people – you see me without an arm and you know that when I lost it I too was in tremendous pain, but, you spitting out blood like that. It reminded me of my brother, you see I do not know how he is now. I just hope he isn't sick or disfigured because of me…'

I did not understand. But, I did not question it. From that day a certain respect grew on him from my eyes. I respected his brother who though I think is a dream, I must respect for Edward's reaction to him. It was sentimental. I still did weep at times thinking of mother who I can feel is what I say "mentally disfigured" due to my absence. We may be men but we are born human first. We will weep for the attachments we have for the people we love. Wither in memory or dream.

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I never was brave with women. Even with that flirtatious cousin my father insisted I marry I could only mumble pleasantries. With her, it felt different. The words spontaneously came out. I thought it was of her appearance. Cloaked and nonchalant, sad yet so beautiful – she was an exotic porcelain beauty. Her skin that dusky fame: that I could stare forever and her eyes, sheer goodness of wood. Her side braids and her pleasant face. She was dressed in the way gypsies are clothed; clothing that I had heard people in India wear, with ornaments descending from that country as well. She was the loveliest thing I have ever seen.

I inwardly blushed but somehow blocked it out with a sigh of wonder. When the other ladies traveling with her said she could read minds I wonder if she could understand that I grew an attraction to her.

' Don't bother with such an unscientific thing.' Edward said in an almost chastising tone. Oh, yes, I had forgotten what a pagan he was.

The beautiful girl didn't mind at his remark yet she touched his shoulder. It surprised me and him, me to a larger scale. Then she moved away as if overawed by something. She told Edward with a mystic tone on how she knows of his loneliness and not being able to relate to anyone. She said she was the same as him.

As we are reaching the carnival and the gypsies started their song, she, remained quiet. So did Edward. I can only look at her. So, her power was real. She could see Edward's nature. Still, I saw her and Edward's blank expression match. The look: her look, so much like his, stoical, as if they were meant for each other. For the first time I actually got jealous of Edward to meet a strange yet strong attention from this exotic maiden.

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**Author's Note:** I know I'm not the only person who noticed Alfons' attraction to Noah. It is implied throughout the movie so is Ed/Noah. Some parts of this chapter were inspired by Jane Eyre's _The Professor_. Please tell me what you think.

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